


Chapter 1 - Blind Date

by Fhujeth



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Blind Date, Healing, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, M/M, Points of View, Recovery, Slow Burn, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2020-10-25 20:30:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20730320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fhujeth/pseuds/Fhujeth
Summary: After World War One both nations entered a war against one another in a border conflict for Vilnius, the historical capital of Lithuania. After that, the two cut off ties completely until World War Two. Lithuania remained salty and angry that Poland would betray him as more came to light in his mind about the actions that really happened when the two were the Commonwealth and who really was in charge.During the Cold War both nations didn't speak much outside of a professional setting and never had a chance to confront one another. It's 1992 and the two are thrust on a Blind Date at the hands of France. Will they be able to confront their long standing disagreements with one another, that have cultivated since the early 1900s, or will they continue to fall astray?Every part tells the same story but from a different point of view. After all, there is two sides to every story.This story is posted in parts to help keep it easy to follow! So it is better advised to bookmark the 'Series' instead of individual stories if you want to keep updated.





	1. Part One - Poland

Poland sat as sweat lightly formed on his forehead, his hands shaking profusely as he struggled to hold a single glass of wine in his hand. He was waiting at the dinner table of one of Paris' most esteemed and famed restaurants dressed accordingly for the early 90s and the setting at hand. The beautiful fixtures and view of the Eiffel Tower were key features for this gorgeous and refined place. He managed to pour himself another glass of red wine as he saw the door to the restaurant open. While he had been reassured that the person he was going to meet wasn't a stranger, he was scared. 

Poland felt his heart pulse with strong energy, an internal alarm that told him one of his kind was near. He didn't feel like hooking up with a mortal, he couldn't, but his shoulders relaxed when he realized it was someone like him, someone he probably already knew. "Please, Christ Almighty. Let tonight end in peace." He made a cross over his chest and prayed quietly to God that his blind date would go okay.

A calm brunette hastily, but with an upbeat step entered and asked where he was supposed to meet. He looked confused when he was told where to go, giving a few glances in the direction of Poland. It was clear that the energy he had when he came in had disappeared without a moment's notice, but he walked over towards the dinner table anyways.

Lithuania stood about a meter from Poland. He was in a rather garish beige jacket that was zipped up to his neck and his pants looked like they just crawled out of a 1970s Sears Catalogue. Poland half-smiled when he saw him but jumped in utter surprise when he fully grasped the scope of who it was. Despite the familiar face, they were not friends.

"I shouldn't have agreed to this," Lithuania muttered under his breath in his own tongue, a heavy Russian accent in his words. His green eyes were cold and narrowed as he stood there, glaring down at Poland.

"Tolys..." Poland stared back at the man he once loved and felt sick. It wasn't the usual sick he'd get when he had to deal with a stranger, but a different, stronger feeling, one of guilt. His chest felt tight and his stomach heavy as he tried to search for words. "That bastard." Was all he could utter, furious that France would set him up on such a date. 

Lithuania remained silent and just stood next to the table. His fists were clenched and his strong jawline tensed. His eyes shook with hatred, but he sat down anyway and poured himself a glass of wine so quickly Poland worried it might splash everywhere. He then drank it down and poured another. He didn't take his eyes off of Poland.

"This is not cool," Poland grumbled. His breathing short but he was doing his best to pretend there wasn't any problem. He didn't want to cause a scene or draw attention to them. "Why would he do this?"

His words were met with an even more fierce look from the other side of the table. The glare was so strong that Poland himself felt threatened until he realized that it was only Lithuania.

Both nations sat with sealed lips and slow movements while they figured out what they were going to order. Poland had one eye on the menu and another on the somewhat wild-haired man. Coincidentally, Lithuania was doing the same.

"I'm going to flag down the waiter," Poland closed his menu and put it aside. "Are you ready to order?"

Lithuania looked up from the menu and directly into Poland's eyes, and for a moment, Poland felt his heart flutter. The warm, familiar face of the rugged warrior he had spent centuries next to was one of his favourite things to see. His always matted hair, his long and defined handsome face. Even if they had been ripped apart and broken, there was something about his face that always stood out as fascinating. Lithuania once again turned back to the menu without saying a word.

"I'll take that as a yes..." Although they'd been separated for decades, Poland could read Lithuania like a book, as impossible to read as he was. His actions, although always subtle, were ones he had long since familiarized himself with. Although a cold and serious man on the surface, Lithuania actually had a warm and gentle heart. "We need more wine anyways." 

Lithuania watched Poland's lips move and set his own menu aside. "Beer," he said as he unzipped his jacket, revealing a rather tacky shirt. He placed the jacket on the back of his chair and proceeded to down the rest of his glass of wine.

"Beer?" Poland asked quietly, intrigue and curiosity in his voice. "...and food?" He found it peculiar that Lithuania had said that out loud, but had quickly come to the conclusion that perhaps the fashion disaster didn't remember how to speak or use French. "What do you want me to order for you?"

"I can order myself. I'm not incompetent." The words were ugly, a stark contrast to Lithuania's handsome face.

Poland sank into his chair a little bit and began to fiddle with some of his jewelry, doubting how much was left of the man he once new. Maybe the old Lithuania was gone and all that was left was this mess in front of him.

"If I knew it was going to be you, I wouldn't have come." Lithuania picked his menu back up as he saw the waiter approaching. His hands shook as he placed his order, using broken French to explain how he wanted his meal. He seemed to get through it without too much difficulty, though.

After the two placed their orders, they sat silently and drank their own alcohol, both going through the motions of having no idea what to do or say to one another. This dance went on for several minutes before they accidentally made eye contact.

"So..." Poland spoke up, his voice weak as he tried to push out something to say against the tension.

Lithuania shot him a glare. "I'm here for the food and beer, not to talk to you." He spoke in Lithuanian and his words were cold and short. "If you can't understand me then that's your problem." 

"Um, well, actually--" Poland hammered down the glass of red in his hand and braced himself for confrontation. When he wanted to do something, he'd do it. Even if it hurt him, in the long run, he was ready to dive headfirst into whatever he wanted to do. In this case, try to talk to Lithuania. Although using nothing but text and a sparse amount of records he had around, he had been able to maintain to some degree his own ability to speak his ex's language. "I can understand you, " He stated back in Lithuanian, a thick Polish accent in his words. It was clear he hadn't been able to practice speaking it with anyone until now. "I want to take this unlikely and unfortunate chance to talk... or something."

Lithuania's brow furrowed in frustration and he scoffed. "Don't do that." He chugged his beer and raised his hand to order another one. He had already drunk quite a bit.

"Do what?" Poland replied, continuing to use the other nation's language. He wasn't sure what was up with Lithuania. He had spent as much energy as he could trying to protest and help the newly independent nation, even going so far as to offer a sanctuary for the Lithuanian president in a time of crisis. He'd tried to be there at the other's side and give it his all every step of the way. “I was just replying to you..."

Lithuania's face twitched and he reached over the table, snatching the other's drink and hammering it down. "...and I said I don't. Want. To hear it." He returned the glass from where he had gotten it and leaned back, "Knowing you, you probably bribed France or asked him to set this whole thing up for you so you could get a chance to manipulate me once again. I'm not having that."

"I- What? He did this to me, too." Poland denied the accusation, though he wasn't sure if Lithuania was going to believe him either way. While he did want to have a friendly relationship with Lithuania, he had not set this event up. He didn't even want to get back into a relationship all that much, though he wouldn't turn down the chance with an apparent 'prince'. "Francis told me he had someone in mind and wanted to set me up on a date. I'm totally not interested in long term dating right now but he said the guy was going to be the perfect match for me." Poland poured another glass of his wine as the waiter came by and delivered Lithuania's next beer. "I wasn't going to pass up a chance..." Poland was touch starved. “People say he knows romance.”

With his emerald eyes fixated on Poland, Lithuania began to drink the next beer. "He doesn't know anything." He set down his drink, his hands still shaking. "I only came for the food and trip out here." His words were as bitter as the beer he was drinking. "But I guess I can't trust that, either."

"Well, I trust the food will be good." Poland both tried to find some optimism at the moment and also steer the topic off of trust issues. He didn't want to accidentally rehash the past or open old wounds. "200 Franc a dish, it better be good." Poland faked a smile. "At least he's covering all of this..."

"You mean he said he'll cover all of this." 

Poland sighed, his attempt at finding a silver lining proving difficult. He went for a different approach. "You look well..." 

"I don't want your false flattery." Lithuania shot Poland a dirty look. "I just want to eat and get out of here." 

"Alright, you sound like you're the world’s worst Russian spy trying to be a Lithuanian." He hadn't been lying when he said Lithuania looked well. He had always been a silent admirer to the man's thick brown hair and bright green eyes. Compared to the times they had met during the Warsaw Pact, he did look well. The bags under his eyes had mostly faded and he seemed to have more of a bounce in his step when he had come in. 

"What is that supposed to mean?" He demanded, ready to lunge at Poland from the other side of the table. "I sound like everyone....else..." His aggressive tone fell to silence, his eyes shaking with a sudden realization. He went weak and his shoulders slumped down as his gaze fell to the empty tablecloth before him.

Poland had seen Lithuania in every emotion, every state, every mood, or so he thought as he looked at the confused and lost man before him. He felt the other's sadness creep over him, but Poland did his best to keep a somewhat upbeat facade. "It's unique." He forced more optimism into his words.

Lithuania looked back at Poland and only for a moment did Poland believe he had been able to break through to him. However, that hope died fast when he watched the once proud king of Eastern Europe look back at the table.

"Unique suits you," Poland attempted again, trying to motivate the other to celebrate something, to find a light. He wanted to see Lithuania's eyes glow again. He could remember the joy he used to see as Lithuania would roar into battle, a brutal entity to be dealt with. He remembered the pride and satisfaction as the warrior ripped the heads off his foes, holding them up for all to see. He wanted to see the man before him one day show that energy again. It disgusted Poland how he had been able to see through the centuries the transition of this once great and feared nation into the pencil pusher he was today.

No matter the efforts Poland attempted to put into his words, Lithuania remained cold and withdrawn. Even as the waitress brought over their meals, the two continued to stare in silence, hardly picking at their food. “Is it that strong?” Lithuania seemed to have a mixed expression on his face, one Poland couldn’t quite read. “Do I still sound like me?”

Poland wanted to give an honest answer but didn’t want to say the wrong thing either. “No… but it’s not because of your accent.” He took a deep breath, wondering if he should have just kept his mouth shut instead of saying that, but before he could carry on, Lithuania spoke up again.

“Then what is it?” He clenched his fists, his sweet face twisting into something angry and putrid. “Is it because I’m not- Flocking to your feet about meeting you here?” He picked up the beer again, downing the rest of it. “Even if it “wasn't your intention” you are some damn reason that we are here tonight, together, in this damn place. Then again, it’s always been ‘not your intention’,” Lithuania hissed, standing up and leaning across the table, getting right into Poland’s face. “Taking MY culture, MY religion, forcing me to be YOUR errand boy. Those ‘weren’t your intentions’ either, right?” He growled, “Well I’m not your filthy fucking errand boy. I’m a goddamn independent country with my OWN ideas and I’m not about to let YOU come back into MY life and take that from me.” He slammed his fists so hard against the table he almost broke it.

The room had all eyes on the two foreigners sitting at the table and at this point, Poland wanted to get up and run out of the room like a madman, but he didn’t. “No-- I--”

“Then what. Is. It?” Lithuania's eyes were as menacing as the times he had entered battle against a most hated foe and Poland could feel his heart skip a beat as he watched the warrior he thought was lost begin to claw its self out. “All I wanted to do was come here, take my damn food, maybe have a few beers, enjoy my night. Have a good conversation with someone new. A fresh start. NOT WITH YOU.”

Poland’s breathing intensified and he felt the need to get defensive back. Usually, he was good at keeping a lot of his feelings behind his stone-cold face but tonight, now, was different, and Lithuania wasn’t listening to him. “I didn’t set us up you bastard!” He screamed back in Polish now. The energy to hold back had no chance against his energy to fight. He leaned in towards Lithuania, his forehead touching the other's. “But all I’ve been doing has been trying to get us to enjoy the night! Whether you like it or not we’re tied together so we might as well try to make the best of it!” Tears began to pool in Poland’s eyes as he remembered everything that drove them further apart. “I don’t think I can ever forgive myself and I don’t want you to forgive me but please… Let’s do what we’re good at and make the best out of a terrible situation tonight.” With that, Poland fell back into his chair and tried to wipe tears away from his eyes.

Lithuania stood quietly on the other side of the table. The fearsome face of the lost soldier shifting back into a calm and peaceful demeanor. A tear or two formed in the pits of his eyes but he wiped them away quickly with the back of his hand as he sat down.

A waiter came by to check up on what had just happened and to make sure they were both okay, but since their ruckus had been rather short-lived and Poland had been able to explain what had happened in French, they were excused for their behaviour. They took the chance to refresh their beverages, this time ordering something stronger than just wine or beer.

“It’s been a while since I drank this stuff.” Lithuania picked up the first shot glass of vodka. They had ordered about a dozen. “I get cravings for it all the time but I’ve been trying to hold back.” He seemed calm for the moment while he dumped the liquid into his mouth and swallowed it. “It’s not bad…” He reached for and took a second, putting the finished cup back down.

Poland smirked, picking one up himself and downing it. “I told you this would make all of our feelings better.” He wanted to laugh but he chose to keep a straight face. “I made sure to order their finest Polish Vodka and nothing beats that.” He said chest pumped up with pride as he reached for another. “I mean, you’ve totally been drinking Russian junk for like, decades, so this must be such a nice change.”

Lithuania took another, his tired eyes lighting up a little bit, and he almost cracked a smile. “Nah, Russian is better.” He took the third shot and then took a deep breath. 

“Yeah…” Poland replied, ignoring the statement Lithuania made about his vodka. He was confident enough in himself that anything he did was always going to be better than Russia’s. In fact, he was almost certain it was just a snide remark or joke. Instead of protesting the statement, Poland let his eyes drift towards the other’s chest.

He watched in awe for a moment as Lithuania took a deep breath. Despite the tacky and slightly oversize shirt over his body, Poland could see that was clear muscle definition hiding behind it. He stared quietly for just a moment before figuring out something he could say to carry on the conversation. His drunken mind searching for the perfect words to use. “You’re really handsome.” It was not at all what Poland had intended to say. “I-I mean that as a friend, not like--”

Lithuania’s eyes narrowed fiercely at Poland and with a quick movement put his jacket back on over his body. “We’re not friends.” 

Poland had been making attempts to be appropriate and kind the entire night and treat it like old times, but times really have changed. “Sorry…” Poland looked away, his stomach churning and his heart racing. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Lithuania took two more shots with ease and leaned forward again, the hate and tension coming back into his eyes. “Don’t ever say anything like that to me again.”

At that moment Poland wanted to get up, run to the bathroom, cry, leave, but he didn’t. He sat firmly. “I’m… I’m…” Lithuania had never seemed to mind being called handsome before. Hell, he was even proud of it at times, flexing his toned arms and bragging about how hard he could punch an opposing soldier. This drastic change over the years pulled at Poland, and he couldn’t help but feel responsible for all of it. “I’m so sorry…” Poland didn’t know what he was apologizing for, but he looked to the side, tears beginning to stream down his face. “I’m so, so, so, so sorry for everything I’ve done.” He clenched his fists against his refined pants and began to sob. He wasn’t even sure what he was sobbing for.

“I’m sure you are… but I’m not some toy to be ogled at.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’m never trusting a word that bastard or anyone else says again,” Lithuania stated, nodding his head in the direction of a neighbouring table. France was there. Although heavily in disguise, he was there. “He probably just wanted a show.”

Poland blinked a few times, surprised he hadn’t even noticed the nation sitting that close to them. Suddenly, it all made sense, or at least, to him it did. “A show…” Poland wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, the bleeding mascara dirtying his hand. “That bastard…”

The mood at their table quickly turned from intense mixed emotions to anger as the two came to their own idea about what the setup of the evening was. “I should have figured he’d have some kind of sick intention like that.” Lithuania glanced down at the plate of food he had ordered and then back towards France. 

“He would do this! We’ve always been jokes to these fucking westerners.” Poland’s face tensed up, a scowl forming across his lips. He put his fists against the table. “I’m going to give him a piece of my fucking mind.” With that, he stood up. “No one treats The Crown of the Polish Kingdom this way.”

Lithuania blinked a few times at what he had just heard the fellow nation call himself, but through his drunken haze just stood up too. “What’s our game plan? I doubt he can understand what we’re saying.”

“Game plan?” Poland didn’t want to get arrested or deported, but he did want to scare France a little bit. “We act like we’re about to fucking kill him like it’s 1444!” He slammed his fists against the table and started towards the nearby booth.

Lithuania’s eyes widened when he saw Poland start to take action immediately, but he followed beside him. He thought they’d plan something, but then again, this was Poland he was working with. 

“Ah, I see you’ve spotted me.” France put down his large newspaper and took off a hat and a fake mustache. “Ah, it’s so sweet that I was able to unite you both after the reckless hardships you two have been through.” France smiled gently towards the two he had so carefully set up. “I hope you’ve bonded well.”

“Yeah, we have ‘bonded’,” Lithuania muttered sarcastically in broken French, prompting Poland to take the vocal lead here. 

“We’ve bonded about kicking your fucking ass for setting us up like this.”

France smiled a bit, drunk on fine wines and cheer at hearing the two had bonded. “I’m happy to hear that you two have gotten along well, ah, it was my goal all along.”

The other two looked at one another and then back to France. “I’m glad we bonded too.” Poland leaned in closer towards France. “...because we’ll be eagerly awaiting you in the parking lot after this. We’ve planned a thank you gift.” He winked before heading back to the table, getting their food to go, and heading out towards the parking lot to wait.

“Ah, reborn love.” France smiled, hands over his heart, “I just love getting people back together.”


	2. Part One - Lithuania

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are two sides to every story. This is Lithuania's.

Lithuania walked with an upbeat step towards the fancy French establishment. The shadow of the Eiffel Tower loomed over him as the sun began to set, giving the sky an orange and warm appearance. The classy seating arrangements outside were filled with people speaking and laughing in a language far from his own, or even Russian, which gave him an extra sense that he was now free to once again travel the world in peace. 

Taking a deep breath, Lithuania opened the door of the building, feeling an intense rush of energy as he sensed that at least one of his kind was inside the building. His heart began to throb as his stomach churned, the strong emotion driving a sense of fear through his body. He felt his hands shake, but he did his best to write off whoever they could be. After all, he believed France was only setting him up on a one night stand with a human, giving him a break from being a nation for once.

Lithuania approached the hostess and explained he was there on a blind date, to meet someone new. When she pointed in the direction of the one he was supposed to meet, Lithuania’s shoulders fell, and a wave of confusion swept over him when he realized that it was Poland. 

He debated whether he should turn around, leave, run far away from there and abandon the other on the date. Poland deserved to be stood up and let down, but then Lithuania remembered that France had urged him to come on this date, and he didn’t want to let France down.

Lithuania stood in frustration for a few minutes, but eventually made his way over towards the table. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth harder and harder as he got closer, until he could see the pale, painted-up face of the man who had betrayed his trust for centuries. “I shouldn’t have agreed to this.” He spoke in his own language, the only one he really felt comfortable using. He glared down at the other, infuriated that of all the people in the world, of course it’d be Poland.

“Tolys...” Poland looked back at the man, his green eyes glittering. Poland looked as if he was almost joyful to see the man standing there at the table beside him, but he quickly turned away, bending over and whispering, “That bastard.” His words were muddled but Lithuania could hear them quite clearly.

Unsure of what he wanted to do, Lithuania stood next to the table, his eyes still focussed on Poland. His fancy, refined clothes reminding Lithuania that to the other he was just a peasant in the eyes of a ‘strong and bold’ survivor. Although they had shared so much of a common history, Poland always overshadowed him and garnered all the attention. Even as Lithuania screamed for help alongside the other two Baltic States, the west only seemed to listen to the east when Poland got louder.

Despite his intense emotions, Lithuania sat down anyways, and with great speed took a glass of wine for himself. If he was going to try to pull through the night as he had promised France, he would need all the alcohol he could get. He guzzled the wine down and took a second glass, refusing to take his eyes off of Poland for a single instant . He felt intensely sick at the idea of being there across from Poland, but he didn’t want to back down. If anything, tonight would be a night to prove that Poland was just as bad as he remembered. Already, he believed the entire thing was a set up. That Poland was the one who brought him here.

“This is not cool,” he heard Poland say through the haze of his own anxiety. The Polish language sounded like surreal Russian in his mind. He knew they were all different, that Polish was a league of its own, but the tone and vibes of the language made him feel sicker. “Why would he do this?”

Lithuania looked back at Poland with even more force. He wanted this man in front of him to disappear, to rot in the ground where he deserved to be. If it hadn’t been for this new, fancy, modern way of doing things, he’d have Poland’s head on a plate for setting them up like this and using France as the disguise to get the job done. 

Both nations sat with sealed lips and slow movements while they figured out what they were going to order. Lithuania made sure to keep an eye on Poland the entire time. If that bastard was going to pull something he needed to make sure that he was going to catch it and stop it from happening as quickly as he could.

“I’m going to flag down the waiter,” Poland said as he closed his menu, placing it aside. He seemed so calm and normal in his actions. It was unreal how the other acted as if nothing were wrong. “Are you ready to order?”

He didn’t hate the Polish language, but he had rage towards it. Slavic languages, for the time being, sounded like nails on a chalkboard to him. All Lithuania wanted was for Poland to stop talking so they could eat their food and he could go home. Obviously, there was no way he was going to pass up an expensive dinner at France or Poland’s expense, so he played along for now. He looked up from his menu and gave Poland a dirty look, but one he knew would get the point across that yeah, he was ready to order and move on with the night himself. 

"I'll take that as a yes..." Poland said with a relatively polite tone, the lack of hatred in his voice leaving Lithuania with an even greater rage. Poland was acting too calm to not have been a part of the setup of this event. He knew Poland liked to make the best of bad situations, but this was bad, and there was no reason for him to be so polite about it. His kindness felt so kind it read as fake. Always fake. “We need more wine anyways.” 

“Beer,” Lithuania let out, trying to use as little of the other’s language as he could. He knew he was going to be there for a while, so he pulled off his jacket and stuck it on the back of the chair. With that, he polished off his glass of wine, the sweet safety of alcohol helping blind him from his problems.

“Beer?” Poland asked quietly, tilting his head and sounding quite intrigued. His cute, refined face didn’t have any form of malice or betrayal in it. “...and food?” 

Poland was good at acting and Lithuania knew that. The sweet Catholic look wouldn’t fool him. “I can order myself. I’m not incompetent,” Lithuania spat, knowing that he, too, knew French. Kind of. He had spent the last week preparing himself for ordering at restaurants and remembering the language the best he could. Although once able to use it well, he had long since forgotten it. The idea of ordering in a language he was uncomfortable with did make him tense.

He kept his eyes on Poland, watching him fiddle around with some jewellery on his wrist, a sign he could tell that the other was anxious. Good. He needed to be anxious. He deserved to feel anxious. He wondered how much practice and effort Poland had gone through to set this whole thing up. God, what a joke.

“If I knew it was going to be you, I wouldn’t have come.” Lithuania looked back at his menu as he saw the waiter approach. He nervously gave his order, shaking with rage and the fear of messing up, but with the knowledge that he was ordering by himself, without help.

Poland ordered too, having no difficulty with French at all. It seemed to come almost naturally to him. He must have spent years perfecting it and maintaining it even if he hadn’t needed it. Then again, French was an important language, one that mattered to the rest of the world. Lithuanian mattered to no one.

Both sat silently again, going through the motions of having no idea what to do or say to one another. Occasionally, Lithuania shot a glare towards Poland, but in doing so they eventually made eye contact.

"So..." Poland spoke up, his voice weak and shaky.

“I’m here for the food and beer, not to talk to you.” This time he spoke in Lithuanian, his ‘uncared-for’ language that was so heavily beaten out of him by Poland and Russia, “If you can’t understand me then that’s your problem.” He felt proud knowing he was able to use a language Poland wouldn’t have had any reason at all to maintain. After all, no one cared about Lithuania to begin with, let alone his language. 

"Um, well, actually--" The words hit Lithuania hard as Poland began to speak in Lithuanian. It was bad, unsteady, and carried a heavy Polish accent, but it was Lithuanian. “I can understand you… I want to take this unlikely and unfortunate chance to talk… or something.” 

Lithuania's brow furrowed in frustration. The bastard remembered his language too? For what purpose? Why? They could communicate in Polish, Russian, English… Poland had no need to know Lithuanian. “Don’t do that.” He felt disgusted hearing his language come out with such a voice.

"Do what?" Poland replied, continuing to use the other nation's language. “I was just replying to you..."

Lithuania's face twitched and he reached over the table, snatching the other’s drink and swallowing it hard. Alcohol was the only escape from this Hell right now. It was the only thing he could trust and use to get a grip on himself. He couldn’t believe Poland had taken the time to maintain his small, archaic language for no real reason. It had to be a joke. "...and I said I don't. Want. To hear it." Lithuania returned the glass from where he had gotten it and leaned back in his chair, eagerly waiting for the sweet, sweet alcohol to fully take effect over him. "Knowing you, you probably bribed France or asked him to set this whole thing up for you so you could get a chance to manipulate me once again. I'm not having that." 

"I- What? He did this to me, too." Poland seemed to tense up at the implication that it had been his plan. Of course he would deny it. Classic Poland, living in denial of all his wrongs while stepping on the heads of others to get what he wanted. "Francis told me he had someone in mind and wanted to set me up on a date. I'm totally not interested in long term dating right now, but he said the guy was going to be the perfect match for me." 

Lithuania listened, almost wanting to laugh at Poland’s poor attempt to save face. Poland was such a naive little man. Always trying to do what Poland wanted to do and Poland could get away with. It didn’t matter what Lithuania wanted, so long as Poland could get what Poland wanted.

“I wasn’t going to pass up a chance…” Poland spoke as the waiter came by and delivered their next drinks. “People say he knows romance…” He rubbed his arms, and it almost seemed like he wanted to hug himself. 

Lithuania only watched and listened to Poland speak, nervous and furious about the night. His hands shook with unmanageable anger and terror. “He doesn’t know anything.” He set down his drink, worried he might spill it. “I only came for the food and trip out here,” he hissed, the amount of betrayal he felt, incomparable. “But I guess I can’t trust that, either.”

"Well, I trust the food will be good," Poland said with an upbeat voice that just drove in even further that this all had to be an act. “200 Franc a dish, it better be good! At least he’s covered all of this…” 

"You mean he said he'll cover all of this." Lithuania didn’t believe a word Poland or France said. This all had to be some extravagant plot to get Lithuania to trust and fall for Poland again so Poland could swoop in and take the newly independent nation all for himself. It kept making more sense. The effort to maintain Lithuanian, the set up, the calm feelings of the evening. It was bullshit and he could smell it a mile away.

“You look well…” Poland commented politely. 

“I don’t want your false flattery.” Lithuania knew he didn’t look good. He was wearing America’s old clothes, and besides cleaning up a little bit, he hadn’t even made an attempt to groom himself. He wasn’t even sure he owned a hairbrush, let alone had his hair trimmed in months. “I just want to eat and get out of here.” He wanted Poland to shut up, too, but that wasn’t going to work.

"Alright, you sound like you're the world’s worst Russian spy trying to be a Lithuanian," Poland retorted.

Those words hit Lithuania like a train, and he stood up, ready to lunge at Poland. “What is that supposed to mean?” he demanded. “I sound like everyone...else…” He stopped when he actually took a second to hear himself speak. Thick Russian accents were laced through his beautiful Lithuanian language. He felt himself go weak and all he could do was fall into his chair. It was true. Not only was it true, but Poland had said it honestly to him. Even though he was speaking Lithuanian, he sounded Russian. 

The world seemed to fade around Lithuania as he felt emotions he couldn’t grasp rise inside of him. He wanted to cry, he wanted to fight, but at this time there really was nothing he could fight for. 

“It’s unique.” Poland kept up his polite act.

The words prompted Lithuania to look up, but when he saw who was saying them, he looked back down. He didn’t want to be pitied or looked down upon, and ‘unique’ was not a word that fit this situation. ‘Unique’ was Lithuanian. Pure Lithuanian. A language that transcended thousands of years, whose roots could be traced almost directly to early the ancient languages of the Baltic Peoples. That was something that made him unique. Not a ‘Russian accent’ heavily influencing his language.

"Unique suits you.” The words Poland said went through one ear and out the other. Lithuania just couldn’t handle listening to him speak any further, nor did he want to hear himself speak. Even as the waitress brought over their meals, the two continued to sit and stare in silence.

“Is it that strong?” Lithuania looked up. He had finally mustered the courage to speak again, and he felt like a lost puppy looking for its owner. “Do I still sound like me?” He started to realize that he was breaking apart inside. Feeling as if he needed validation from someone else and that the only person there was Poland. He didn’t want validation from Poland.

“No, but it’s not because of your accent.”

“Then what is it?” Lithuania could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He clenched his fists, he felt his jaw go tight. Everything made sense now, the picture crystal clear in his mind. Poland was trying to break him down so he could manipulate him and take control of him again. “Is it because I’m not- Flocking to your feet about meeting you here?” Even if Poland was telling the truth about having no part in setting up the blind date, clearly Poland was using this situation to his own advantage of some kind. He had to be. “Even if it ‘wasn’t your intention’ you are some damn reason that we are here tonight, together in this damn place.” He could remember all the things he had been told, the things he never noticed during the Commonwealth. The slow Polish takeover, or the major power imbalance that started to eat Lithuania from the inside out. His people had told him, his historians had pointed out facts. Even neighbouring nations had told him that these were things Poland had done.

Lithuania could see Poland tense up at the accusations. “Then again, it’s always been “not your intention.... Taking MY culture, MY religion, forcing me to be YOUR errand boy. Those weren’t your intentions either, right?” He was free, and he was going to enjoy that freedom more than any other nation could for as long as he could. “Well I’m not your filthy fucking errand boy. I’m a goddamn independent country with my OWN ideas and I’m not about to let YOU come back into MY life and take that from me.” He slammed his fists down on the table.

The room had all eyes on the two foreigners sitting at the table. Lithuania stared down his foe like he was a wolf ready to go in for the final kill.

“No-- I--” Poland spoke up, clearly terrified and intimidated by his words.

“Then what. Is. It?” He kept the face up. “All I wanted to do was come here, take my damn food, maybe have a few beers, enjoy my night.” He felt like he was hammering in the nail that would show him what a monster Poland was. “Have a good conversation with someone new. A fresh start.” He made his look stronger, pushing all his energy into staring down the smaller man. “NOT WITH YOU.”

It seemed with those last words, Poland was starting to get fired up. Lithuania could see his foe squirming for the desire to battle. The ancient warrior he saw in Poland trying to fight back against the face he wore in public. “I didn’t set us up you bastard!” The words streamed out in Polish, words laced with ferocity only Lithuania could recall when Poland was enraged. He stood up and leaned in towards Lithuania, pressing his forehead against the other’s and looking him dead in the eyes. “But all I’ve been doing has been trying to get us to enjoy the night! Whether you like it or not, we’re tied together so we might as well try to make the best of it!”

Lithuania could see tears forming in Poland’s eyes, but they weren’t tears of anger and hatred. He could tell that Poland was feeling something else.

“I don’t think I can ever forgive myself and I don’t want you to forgive me, but please…” Poland was tearing up more now. “Let’s just do what we’re good at and make the best out of a terrible situation.” With that, Poland fell back into his chair and turned away.

It took a moment for Lithuania to register in his head the exchange the two had just had, but suddenly, he himself started to understand. The tears and emotions he was seeing from the other weren’t testaments to anger and pity towards Lithuania, they were ones of guilt. He suddenly felt intense emotions overcome him as he realized Poland maybe did learn from what he had done. Maybe in the drunken moment, he had jumped to conclusions, or maybe his instincts had been right. He suddenly didn’t know what to believe.

Lithuania sat back down at the table and he felt tears well up in his eyes. Logically, deep inside himself, he knew that Poland had never intended things to go the way they had gone in the Commonwealth, but the echoes of propaganda still creeped through his mind. 

He wiped the few tears away from his eyes as a waiter came by to check up on what had just happened and make sure that both customers were okay. Since their ruckus had been rather short lived, and Poland, thankfully, had been able to explain what had happened in French, they were excused for their behaviour. They also took the chance to refresh their beverages, this time ordering something stronger than just wine or beer.

Lithuania’s breathing calmed, and he was able to get a grip of himself again. He felt happy he was able to say some of the things he said, too, even if they were empty winded words at a man who probably never believed he felt that way.

Lithuania eyed the vodka they had mutually agreed to order and took a deep breath. “It’s been a while since I drank this stuff.” Lithuania picked up the first shot glass. “I get cravings for it all the time but I’ve been trying to hold back.”

Vodka was one of the key tools in helping keep the SSRs from fighting back as strongly as they had. It was like a drug. At least, that’s how Lithuania viewed it. He didn’t hate the alcohol, but he felt like it had become too much of a crutch when he had been under Russia’s rule. Tonight, though, was an exception, and he took the first shot. “It’s not bad…” He picked up another.

He saw Poland smile a little bit and watched him take a shot himself. “I told you this would make all of our feelings better…” He looked proud of that statement, and it reminded Lithuania a little bit about how Poland always took the small things and found the biggest light in them. “I made sure to order the finest Polish vodka and nothing beats that. I mean, you’ve totally been drinking Russian junk for like, decades, so this must be such a nice change.”

Lithuania picked up a third shot and listened to Poland brag. Maybe it was the vodka talking, but there was something about Poland that made him feel comfortable. Even though he felt at times Poland was a bit of an arrogant bastard, he felt safe around that bastard. Logically, he still knew Poland had never intended for anything to happen and even if he did, so far tonight he was proving to be a pretty good guy, even if it was probably an act. “Nah, Russian is better,” he joked downing the drink with a sigh, letting it all sink in. 

“Yeah…” Poland stared at Lithuania with a spaced-out look. His eyes seemed to move in a careful manner, gazing over Lithuania’s body. At first, Lithuania thought it was just Poland being drunk and aloof, but his thoughts changed quickly when he heard him utter, “You’re really handsome.”

Lithuania tensed up at that.

“I-I mean that as a friend, not like--”

Lithuania felt his heart start to race, a sheer discomfort overcoming him. He felt naked, objectified, stripped of all his pride and immediately put on his jacket. “We’re not friends.”

Poland seemed to back off at the comment and look away. “Sorry… I didn’t mean it like that.” Poland’s voice shook.

Lithuania took two more shots with ease and leaned forward again, the hate and tension coming back into his eyes. “Don’t ever say anything like that to me again.” Lithuania had been objectified the last few decades of his life. Not only had Russia treated him as a man servant, but he would go so far as to humiliate and sexualize him.

Poland sat still as he watched Lithuania speak. “I’m… I’m....” Poland began to sob.

It took Lithuania a moment to realize that Poland didn’t know. How could Poland know? Russia had kept the two apart from one another for decades, and when they did end up seeing one another, they were never able to speak.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, so, so sorry for everything I’ve done.” It was unlike Poland to cry in public this way. Even when they were younger, Poland never cried in public.

Lithuania leaned back in his chair, feeling a bit more comfortable now that his body was hidden under the jacket again. A part of him wanted to believe Poland really was sorry, and that he was a genuinely kind man with good intentions. “I’m sure you are… but I’m not some toy to be ogled at.” Lithuania took a deep breath before nodding in the direction of a neighbouring table. “I’m never trusting a word that bastard or anyone else says again.” He had only just noticed but France was there, although heavily in disguise. “He probably just wanted a show.”

Poland blinked a few times and glanced in the direction of the table. “A show…” He wiped his tears away, smudged makeup all over his once well-painted face. A few pale scars appeared as the makeup went away. “That bastard…”

The mood at the their table quickly turned from intense mixed emotions to anger as the two came to their own ideas about what the setup of the evening was. “I should have figured he’d have some kind of sick intention like that.” If Poland really was telling the truth that he had had no say in this, it really would make sense that France would want nothing but a dinner and a show. Getting the two of them back together after what they had been through would have been a great show. Lithuania looked at his plate of food and then back at France. It was just a trick. It had to be.

“He would do this! We’ve always been jokes to these fucking westerners.” Poland’s face tensed up, a scowl forming across his lips. He put his fists against the table. “I’m going to give him a piece of my fucking mind.” Poland stood up, his face showing, to Lithuania, the true side of Poland. “No one treats the Crown of the Polish Kingdom this way.”

Lithuania blinked a few times at what he had just heard the fellow nation refer to himself as. It was such a long and obsolete title, but he didn’t care. It was Poland. He was drunk and he wanted revenge. The anger Poland felt was emanating through Lithuania, and he could feel himself getting pumped up, too. “What’s our game plan?” Lithuania stood up, proud they had opted to speak Lithuanian most of the night. “I doubt he can understand what we’re saying.” 

“Game plan? We act like we’re about to fucking kill him like it’s 1444!” He slammed his fists against the table and started towards the nearby booth.

Lithuania felt his heart race as he saw Poland take action immediately. It was so Poland to just lunge headfirst into things. Usually Lithuania had a plan of some kind, but Poland was always just one of those guys. In a way, Lithuania admired that. Poland never waited for the door to open. He just ran headfirst through them like a bull.

“Ah, I see you’ve spotted me.” France put down his large newspaper and took off a hat and a fake mustache. “Ah, it’s so sweet that I was able to unite you both after the reckless hardships you two have been through.” France smiled gently towards the two he had so carefully set up. “I hope you’ve bonded well.”

“Yeah, we have ‘bonded’.” Lithuania muttered sarcastically using French to the best of his ability. It was never a language he had needed to learn, so he stopped using it after France had broken his promise to them.

“We’ve bonded about kicking your fucking ass for setting us up like this,” Poland jumped in, his French far smoother.

France smiled a bit, drunk on fine wines and cheer at hearing that the two had bonded. “I’m happy to hear that you two have gotten along well, ah, it was my goal all along.”

Lithuania and Poland looked at one another, the familiar sense of kinship they had shared with one another igniting fires in them. For the moment, Lithuania felt comfortable right alongside Poland, at least when it came to beating the crap out of someone.

“I’m glad we bonded too,” Poland said, leaning towards France as Lithuania felt the warrior inside him trying to fight its way out. “...because we’ll be eagerly awaiting you in the parking lot after this. We’ve planned a thank you gift.” Poland winked and started back for the table.

Lithuania followed behind to collect their goods and head out. He felt a power inside him he hadn’t felt in years and he smiled. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be such a bad night after all.

“Ah, reborn love.” France smiled, hands over is heart, “I just love getting people back together.”


	3. Chapter Three - France

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bonus chapter from the eyes of France. Used to include some fanart and give one last perspective into the two.

Ah, tonight was the night. Poland. Lithuania. A beautifully-chosen restaurant in the absolute most romantic place in the world. Yes, this was going to work out fabulously. Everything was in order for France’s match-made-in-heaven blind date. He would finally bring together two of his friends: the sleek and noble Poland, and the calm and sweet Lithuania.

Star-crossed lovers, separated from one another for decades. Oh, the sweetness of reunion, a sophisticated ballad of romance and warmth! France couldn’t help but twirl in joy outside of his chosen establishment where two lost souls in search of love would be so carefully reunited. 

“Soon, they will arrive, and I will have done what no one else could do.” France had sensed the romantic possibilities of these two ex-lovers from a mile away. “Reunite Poland and Lithuania-- together, by my hand!” He felt like a cupid. 

With haste, France entered the exquisitely decorated restaurant, letting the waitress show him to his seat. He had been looking forward to this evening since he had come up with the idea to propose a blind date to both of them.

After ordering some wine and appetizers, France pulled a hat and mustache from his bag, along with a newspaper. If he wanted to watch without being spotted, he’d have to be in perfect disguise. After all, those he were matchmaking might spot him as he watched.

France hadn’t come with the intent of voyeurism, no; just the desire to see two individuals once again get back together. After all, the year was 1992. The men he had set up had once been lovers, deeply in love to a point where they could not be lifted from one another’s arms. However, that had been centuries ago, back when he had fought alongside Napoleon and Poland as a much needed and been a useful ally. Together, the three had tried to free Lithuania and others from the confines of Russia and bring peace once again to Europe.

France reflected on how Poland would speak longingly, back in the 1800s, about his hopes and dreams to once again reunite with Lithuania and rebuild their kingdom. It was a sentiment that resonated deeply with France.

As expected, Poland entered the fine Parisian restaurant dressed head to toe in a casual, yet elegant outfit. The small blond always seemed to take the best care in what he wore, as if putting on a presentation for the world to see. Poland was always a nation to look good, despite his circumstances.

“I’ll start myself off with this red wine, please,” said Poland in near perfect French to the waitress, much to France’s surprise. He’d have no reason to maintain his French after so many decades, but such was to be expected of Poland. 

Poland had always been an unpredictable soldier with a knack for getting things done. His ability to rebound from even the worst situations was almost uncanny and if he’d set himself out to do something, he’d get it done. He had a rich and sophisticated demeanor for a second world country, and he always carried himself nicely.

Some moments passed, and in came guest number two: Lithuania. He, in stark contrast to his date, looked like an absolute mess. His clothes were outdated and his hair was unkempt. It left France asking himself what the man had been thinking. Was he even aware that this was supposed to be a date? Yet, it really came as no surprise. In most of his past interactions with Lithuania , the nation had given off an almost feral vibe. It wasn’t to say that Lithuania wasn’t smart or capable, just that something about him screamed Tarzan. In a way, it contrasted the domestic and well-kept Poland nicely.

France grew eager as he watched Lithuania make his way towards Poland. Soon, the two would reunite and finally be able to talk about everything that they hadn’t been able to talk about for decades. Best of all, France had come prepared, having taken some time to study the languages of both nations, Polish and Russian.

The date was getting off to an awkward start, but it was nonetheless intriguing to watch. There was a bit of mumbling here or there in Polish, and some strange, incomprehensible words from Lithuania, but soon, Lithuania sat down and took some wine.

France sipped his own wine as he admired both nations, star-eyed at their silent glances towards one another. There was a bit of tension. France liked that. However, he hadn’t come with the sole intent of watching them for the thrill. He’d come with a mission: to make sure everything went smoothly. France decided to give them some privacy as he heard them order food and hid himself behind his newspaper. Despite occupying his eyes, he still kept a listening ear on the conversation, preparing his mind to understand whatever they may say.

"Aš čia tik dėl valgio ir alaus, o ne tam kad bendraučiau su tavimi." Lithuania spat out, much to France’s surprise. This wasn’t Russian, and it certainly wasn’t Polish. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, in fact. Did Lithuanians have their own language? "Jei negali suprasti manęs, tai tik tavo paties bėda."

"Na, jei jau ką…” Poland replied, a tremble in his voice. Poland had always been a shy character, so perhaps he was having trouble speaking to Lithuania in such a casual setting, or struggling to use this strange language. “Aš suprantu tavę... Ir aš norėčiau per šią netikėtą galimybę, pasikalbėti....." On second thought, Poland’s words, however strange, seemed to be growing confident.

The foreign language kept up consistently, and France came to the bitter realization that he would not be able to understand a word they were saying. That was okay, though. He was France, after all, a master of reading emotions, feelings, and most importantly, romance. He would be able to understand simply from their actions alone.

He carefully sipped at his wine while his dinner came to his table and watched the two converse back and forth, picking at his meal. Eating in a fake mustache was always a burden, but it was a trivial bother when his targets seemed to be hitting it off so well. That was, until he saw Lithuania stood in a huff and glared down at Poland, going so far as to lean across the table towards him. Perhaps a kiss? 

“Vogti mano kultūrą, MANO tikėjimą, priversti mane būti TAVO tarnu!” Lithuania spat those words at Poland, and from where France was sitting, it was starting to look like a quarrel. “Aš ne esu tavo sušiktas tarnas. Aš esu laisva šalis su SAVO idėjomis ir aš neleisiu TAU grįžti į MANO gyvenimą ir atimti to iš manęs!”

France jumped as Lithuania slammed his fists into the table. The strong, brooding, dressed-to-depress country was radiating an aura of pure rage. His body gave off an energy France had never witnessed before. “Perhaps this is the Lithuania I’ve heard so much about…” he thought to himself, sipping his wine as if he were watching a show.

“No-- I--” Poland’s voice cracked as he fell back into his own language, his words cut short by more of Lithuania’s scolding.

"Tai, kas yra tuomet?!?" Lithuania shouted as if he were about to pull a sword on Poland, and France was beginning to think that maybe setting them up hadn’t been the best idea. Lithuania was causing quite a scene, and he wasn’t holding back. The doe-eyed pencil-pusher France thought he knew had begun to morph into a bold and commanding warrior. "Aš galvojau, kad atvyksiu čia, pasiimsiu savo maistą, gal išgersiu truputį alaus, pasimėgausiu vakaru. Gal pabendrausiu su kažkuo nauju! Pradėsiu kažką naujo! NE SU TAVIMI!!"

“Nie ustawiłem tego, you idiot!” Poland shot up, leaning across the table, his angry emerald eyes meeting Lithuania’s. Both nations were so close to one another that they were almost touching.

  
By [Madamelotus](https://madamelotus.tumblr.com/)

France took a moment to try to process every word he had just heard but found himself struggling to understand the Polish language. Maybe he should have spent a few more times listening to those language records instead of classical French music.

“Jedyne, co staram się tutaj zrobić to mieć fajny evening! Może ci się to nie podobać, ale jesteśmy here together, so równie dobrze możemy chociaż try wykorzystać to spotkanie best!” Poland continued in his nearly incomprehensible spitfire, but he eventually slid back down into his chair, wiping away tears. His breath shuddered out, intense and angry.

France watched as Lithuania sat down too, confused as to what he had just seen before him. Maybe Lithuania and Poland truly didn’t share the same feelings they had only a few centuries prior. France smiled at himself and shook his head over the thoughts he was thinking. _Of course_ they still had the same feelings for one another… probably. They just hadn’t realized it yet. Maybe. Uncertainty came to the forefront of France’s mind, and he buried himself in the local paper again to check a few articles about his beautiful capital to avoid the mess he might have had a hand in making. Staying up to date on news was important too, after all.

After the steam of their fight had dissipated, France took a peek back over towards Lithuania and Poland. They seemed to have carried on, ordering a massive plate of Vodka shots. They even looked to be in high spirits.

“Seniai aš jau gėręs šitai!” Lithuania picked up the first shot glass of vodka. “Aš visąlaik užsimanau išgerti, bet bandau atsilaikyti nuo to." Although France still couldn’t understand Lithuania’s words, it was clear to him that speaking to Poland had returned to him his cheer.

Poland smirked, much to France’s surprise. It was rare to see him smile and France stared in amazement at how fast they had gone from fighting to drinking peacefully together. 

Their conversation went on for another minute or so before they fell silent, a harsh sentence flying out of Lithuania’s mouth. It caught France’s attention and he looked over again, taking notice of Poland. Poland had began to bawl, tears streaming down his face, his make up running with them.

Whatever Lithuania had said must have hit a sore spot for Poland, and France truly began to ask himself if he had done the right thing. As capable as he was at reading romance and love, France knew he could make mistakes. After all, he felt romantic attraction towards England, but those feelings had to be wrong. It was impossible to actually be attracted to England, let alone have feelings for him. 

France sighed and hid behind the newspaper, trying to ignore the mess he was now certain he had created. Poland seemed like a strong and fierce nation, one who wouldn’t let his makeup run down his face in public like that. This alone was a clear indicator that setting them up had been a mistake.

“That bastard…” Poland cursed under his breath, words France could easily understand. France’s heart skipped a beat as he peeked out from his newspaper. Poland and Lithuania were talking together, making glances towards him and his table.

He’d been spotted, although maybe it wasn’t a bad thing. Their silent, awkward anger towards each other quickly began to shift into unity as they talked. Before France knew it, both nations were on the way to his table, mixed emotions across their faces.

“Ah, I see you’ve spotted me.” France tried not to panic as he removed his disguise. Both nations that were standing before him were weak compared to himself, and that gave him a boost of confidence in spite of the fact that they were known for their versatility and ability to work in tandem with one another. “Ah, it’s so sweet that I was able to unite you both after the reckless hardships you two have been through.” France offered a gentle smile. “I hope you’ve bonded well.” He wasn’t sure where he was going with what he was saying.

“Yeah, we have ‘bonded’.” Lithuania fiercely butchered what should have been a beautiful French phrase.

“We’ve bonded about kicking your fucking ass for setting us up like this.” Poland returned a smug grin, his French flying out of his mouth in the most elegant fashion in spite of the harsh words. 

France was impressed by that alone. “I’m happy to hear that you two have gotten along well.” He sipped his wine, starting to believe he truly had fixed such a scattered relationship. Perhaps he hadn’t made a mess of things. “Ah, it was my goal all along.”

Both Lithuania and Poland exchanged glances. “I’m glad we bonded too,” said Poland as he leaned in closer towards France, “...because we’ll eagerly be awaiting you in the parking lot after this. We’ve planned a thank you gift.” He winked before strutting off back to his table alongside Lithuania. 

“Ah, love reborn.” France put his hands over his heart as he watched the two pack up and leave. He felt warm inside. If anything, he had been able to get both nations to cooperate together if they had, somehow, fallen astray. Cooperation, yes, in… 

France’s joy slowly shifted as he realized that both nations were probably going to try and kick his ass in the parking lot. “Oh, my,” he mumbled to himself and adjusted his shirt. Mayhaps it was better to sit tight in the restaurant and work out a game plan to avoid them for the night.

It wouldn’t be the first time he had climbed out a window.

  
By [Sackdrawer](https://sackdrawer.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks for CoffeeJay for beta reading, Paro, Madame, Siniar, Wiktor, and Pero.

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction takes into account the rough history of the 1900s between Poland and Lithuania. It also takes into account the propaganda that was used during the 1900s to help convince Lithuanians that Poland was a monstrous country during their golden era. 
> 
> Poland never sexually abused Lithuania. Russia did. [More on that later].


End file.
